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HOW THE ENDS MET 



BY 



SUSAN ANNA BROWN 




BOSTON 

JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY 

1885 



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Copyright, 1S84, 
Bv James R. Osgood and Cotifany. 



All Rights Reserved. 



ELECTROTYPED 
BY C. J. PETERS AND SON. 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 



Mr. Farriis^gton was certainly an un- 
happy man, as he sat in his cozy parlor on 
that October evening. His forehead was 
drawn up in a very unbecoming frown as he 
contemplated his sprained ankle, which was 
stretched out on a chair before him. 

His surroundings were pleasant enough. 
The room was brightened and Avarmed by 
an open fire, which cast its cheery glow on 
the subdued tints of the carpet and portieres, 
and brought out new beauties, as its light 
fell on the many wedding gifts which 
adorned the room, and gave it that unmis- 
takable air which distinguishes the homes 
of young people. 

Four years' use had not destroyed their 



6 now THE EXDS MET. 

freshness, but liad added the charm which 
belongs to familiar thing's in famiHar places. 

Mr. Farrington had spent many happy 
hom^s in that room, and had often said that 
peace and comfort seemed to abide there, 
bnt to-night his face indicated qnite a differ- 
ent feehng. The newspaper, which was 
the immediate cause of his discomfort, lay 
on the floor beside him. It had fallen pro- 
vokingly almost out of reach, and he gave 
it a vigorous kick with his well foot, and 
then regretted his impatience ; for now he 
must wait until his wife returned to hand it 
to him ; so he sat gazing gloomily at the 
fire. He had been occuj)ied for some time 
in building castles in the air which were fit 
abodes for Giant Despair, when he heard 
the door open behind him, and turned with 
an exclamation of pleasure as he saw the 
strong, helpful face of Mrs. Woodburn, a 
cousin of his, whose coming always sug- 
gested relief to burdened hearts. 

" Come in, Mary," he said cordially. 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 7 

"Fanny was obliged to go down to Mr. 
Messenger's this evening, and I am as blue 
and out of sorts as can be." 

Mrs. "Woodburn threw aside her wrap- 
pings, and drew a low chair near the fire. 

" How is your ankle ? " she inquired, tak- 
ing it for granted that his injury was the 
chief source of her cousin's discomfort. 

" Improving, I suppose," he replied. '^ I 
could bear it well enough if I had nothing 
on my mind; but just now it makes me 
frantic to sit still all day and think." 

Mrs. Woodburn was so intimate a friend 
that she had no hesitation in urging him to 
tell her just the condition of his affairs. 

" I may as well tell you," he said, gloom- 
ily, " although there is no help for it. I can 
see nothing before us but wretchedness. 
You know when Fanny and I were married 
we expected to economize, and we have 
done so, faithfully. My salary is fifteen 
hundred dollars, and then I had a thousand 
dollars income from my bank stock. It has 



8 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

been hard work to got on, but we Ve done 
it, and kept np my life insurance; but 
now I suppose you know that big failure 
last week completely swamped me. Every 
cent I had from my father went, and now 
we have only my salary to live on, and that 
will be wholly inadequate. Of course there 
is no such thing as getting a better place. 
I am lucky to have as good a one in these 
times. I liave to work hard, but I don't 
mind that; and Mialf a loaf is better than 
no bread.' But the fact is, Mary, it is just 
an impossibility for us to get on even toler- 
ably on less than twenty-five hundred dol- 
lars a year. Poor Fanny ! she pretends to 
keep up her courage, but she knows as well 
as I do that the future is pretty black; and 
here I am laid up with this ankle, with 
nothing on earth to do but fret." 

" You will not lose your place by your 
enforced absence ? " inquired Mrs. Wood- 
burn. 

^*]S'o; Mr. Messenger will keep it open 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 9 

for me. Business is so dull he can afford to 
spare me a while. There are applicants 
coming every day to ask for it, however." 

" You have the advantage of those men, 
at any rate," said Mrs. AYoodbnrn; "you 
are not in the worst possible situation." 

"I suppose not; but I never could see 
much comfort in thinking of other people's 
misery. The fact is, Mary, I am completely 
discouraged, and you cannot wonder at it. 
We have had a j^leasant little home here," 
he added, looking fondly around the i-oom, 
" but we must give it all up and board m 
some squalid little hole. We hoped never 
to leave this place until we could afford to 
buy a house of our own," and he bent his 
brows in a deep scoavI, which would have 
been tears in a woman. 

" T don't mind for myself," he resumed, 
after a few moments, " but to think of bring- 
ing Fanny and my boy into such poverty. I 
ought to have left her in her father's house, 
where she was kept from all this wretched 
worrying over money matters." 



10 IfOW TITK ENDS MET. 

" She would bardlj agree to that," said 
Mrs. AVoodburn, glancing up at Mrs. Far- 
rington, who had entered in time to hear 
her husband's hist words, and who hastened 
to convince him that her wretchedness in 
that case would have been of a far more 
distressing nature. 

" Hear her ! '' he exclaimed, turning again 
to his cousin. " She thinks we can get on 
very comfortably; those who know nothing 
fear nothing. We have had hard enough 
work to live on our old income, and how 
she expects to manage on three fifths of it 
is more than I know." 

"It is more than I know, now," said Mrs. 
Farrington cheerily, " but ' I am not bred so 
dull but I can learn.' " 

"I beg you not to finish the quotation," 
said her husband, " I don't want your spirit 
to ' commit itself to mine to be instructed,' 
I am perfectly ignorant on the subject my- 
self" 

" Then you must learn togethei'," said 



now THE ENDS MET. 11 

Mrs. Woodbuni, looking up at the young 
Avife with an encouraging smile. " You can 
hardly expect that I, who was brought up 
in a country parsonage on a salary of nine 
hundred dollars, can feel as if you w^ere in 
abject poverty." 

" But times Avere so different then," said 
Mr. Farrington impatiently. "Because 
your father could live on that, thirty years 
ago, does not prove that we can to-day. 
Ever}^ thing has changed since then." 

" The tastes have changed more than the 
times, I imagine," replied Mrs. Woodburn, 
" but, George," she added, more gravely, 
'' it is not like you to try and discourage 
Fanny; you have not been accustomed to 
try and make her way harder, instead of 
helping her." 

"It is only because of his ankle," said 
Fanny quickly. " That makes the whole 
world look black." 

" Thank, you, my best friend," said Mr. 
Farrington, "it takes a woman like yon to 



12 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

apologize for a cross husband, but it is uot 
ill temper, but real anxiety, which makes me 
discourage you in your rose-colored visions." 

"Come, Cousin Mary," said Fanny, as 
she stirred the fire into a brighter glow, 
"help us. You are always full of plans. 
Cannot you tell us what we must do?" 

" Yes," replied Mrs Woodburn, " you 
must live on your income. You and George 
have been accustomed from childhood to 
look upon people who had two or three 
thousand dollars a year as poor. You need 
to have your point of view changed. There 
are many j^eople who are as well educated 
and as cultivated as you, who live on a 
much smaller sum. There was never any 
scrimping in my father's house. There 
was care and economy, but thei*e was 
none of that stingy fretting over every 
expense which I have sometimes seen 
in richer households. You think that 
everything has changed since then, George, 
and that what was possible then is im- 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 13 

possible now, but I am sure you are mis- 
taken. The trouble is, people have less 
courage, and more fear of their neigh- 
bors, and of that dreadful and imper- 
sonal ' tliey ' whom we constantly hear 
quoted. We must dress in a certain way, 
and keep up a certain style of living be- 
cause ' they ' do. The fact is simply that 
it is so very unfashionable to be poor that 
everyone tries to deceive himself and his 
neighbors into the belief that he is better 
off than is actually the case. Even in 
cases where no deception is really in- 
tended, people are so anxious to put the 
best foot foremost, that the men on two 
thousand dollars want to live like the men 
on three thousand, while these, in their turn, 
are quite as anxious to equal those who 
have four, and so on." 

"But there is a good as well as a bad 
side to that," interrupted Mrs. Farrington. 
" It prevents people from talking about their 
affairs in a complaining way. I think it is 



14 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

as unpleasant to hear people constantly 
referring to their poverty, as it is to their 
ill health." 

" Yes, that is true," replied Mrs. Wood- 
burn, "for downright grumbling there is 
nothing like a small circle of people who live 
on salaries and are perfectly well acquainted 
with each other's pecuniary affairs. To be 
sure, they accepted the positions, and were 
glad enough to get them, but they are 
always comparing notes and finding f^iult 
with the smallness of their incomes, while 
it is not really too small an income, but too 
too great an outgo, which makes all the 
difficulty." 

" You are bringing it right down to ' be 
content with such things as you have,'" 
said Fanny. 

" That is all very well," said Mrs. Far- 
rington, " but I can't be content when I 
do not see how we are to live on our 
income." 

" Your o-eneralities are very true and 



now THE ENDS MET. 15 

excellent, Mary, but they don't help me out 
of the Slough of Despond." 

" If yon really want my help," said Mrs. 
Woodburn, '' I am ready to do what I can. 
Brmg out your last year's account-book, 
Fanny, and let us see if we can find a ray 
of light in the darkness." 

"]^othing is such a relief to people who 
are troubled with a vague anxiety, as some 
definite work which may reduce their 
troubles to a shape in which they may be 
fairly considered." 

Mr. Farrington felt more cheerful when 
his chair had been drawn up to the table, 
but he said, — 

" You can 't do it, cousin Mary. There is 
no such thing as adding two and two to 
make ^ve, and that is just what you are 
trying to do when you propose to prove 
that we can live decently on fifteen hundred 
dollars a year. I know what hard work 
it has been to make twenty-five hundred 
suffice." 



16 now THE ENDS MET. 

" Come, come, Hemy," said his wife, as 
she opened the account-book ; " do not let 
lis talk like children. We cannot spend 
more than we have, and you know very well 
that we shall live on fifteen hundred dollars. 
If cousin Mary is willing to help us to see 
our way a little, let us not begin by saying 
we can never improve." 

Her husband made no reply, but he drew 
a pencil and paper towards him and began 
to jot down a few items. 

Kent $300.00 

Cook's wages . 144.00 

Katie's wages 96;00 

P\iel 90.00 

Gas 25.00 



Mrs. Woodburn was looking over his 
shoulder and she laughed merrily as she 
said, — 

" It is indeed trying to make two and two 
equal five, if you expect I am to show you 
how to make fifteen hundred dollars buy as 
much as twenty-five hundred. The only 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 17 

way to economize, that I iinderstaiid, is to 
do luitJioui a great many things wliicli you 
want. Every expense must be reduced in 
proj)ortion. All I claim is, that you can 
live very comfortably and happily on your 
present income, but you must make up your 
minds from the first that it w^ill not be easy. 
It means some self-sacrifice for you both. 
At first you will need to have a great deal 
of patience with yourselves and with each 
othei'." 

"But all these things that George has 
put down are really necessary," said Fanny, 
examining the paper. "I do not doubt that 
we have spent money foolishly, but I do 
not see how any of those items could have 
been reduced. Of course, we could do 
without servants, or we could, if I were 
one of those energetic women we read of 
in books." 

" I do not think it will be necessary for 
3^ou to emulate those remarkable house- 
keepers," said Mrs. Woodburn, while Mr. 



18 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

Farrington vetoed any such reti'enchment 
very decidedly. 

"I shall certamly keep but one girl," 
said Fanny; " I can do all that Katie does, 
I am sure." 

" It will wear you out in a month," inter- 
posed her husband; "you will be so closely 
confined if you have no one to look after 
^ed; we must keep Katie, I am sure." 

''I do not believe Fanny can earn two 
hundred dollars a year as easily in any 
other way," said Mrs. Woodburn. "Katie's 
wages and board will amount to that, and a 
penny saved is a penny earned, you know." 

" But I am the earner in this family," 
replied Mr. Farrington, " or I ought to be." 

" Thank you, my dear," responded Fanny, 
" but I have no idea of being set aside as ' a 
helpless, useless burden,' as poor Aunt 
Helen used to say. ]S"ed is growing bigger 
every day, and he will be better and hap- 
pier, I dare say, for a change of nurses. 
Just tliink of the mothers who care for a 



now THE ENDS MET, 



19 



whole family of children. He will not re- 
quire so much looking after, if I have him 
all to myself" 

"We shall see," replied her husband. 
"When I see you nervous and Avorn out 
next spring, I shall know the cause; but I 
suppose we must try it at least." 

" The best way," said Mrs. Woodburn, 
possessing herself of the paper and pencil, 
"is to consider just what you are most 
willing to give up. We will divide your 
income into different parts, and you must 
see from your accounts if it is possible to 
make your absolute necessities come within 
it. It is fifteen hundred dollars, you say." 

" Thirteen hundred and Mty, for our- 
selves;' said Fanny softly, as she looked 
up at her husband. 

"Fanny became a convert some yeai-s 
ago to the theory that one tenth belongs to 
God," said Mr. Farrington, as Mrs. Wood- 
burn looked inquiringly at him. '^ When 
my salaiy is paid, or my dividends come in, 



20 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

she puts aside a tenth, and what we give is 
taken from that part. I did not favor the 
idea at first, hut I must acknowledge that I 
never found giving so easy and so pleasant 
before. I am twice as much interested as 1 
used to be in all benevolent w^ork. When 
I hear of any object which needs help, it 
does give me a comfortable feeling to 
think of that ' tenth purse,' as Fanny calls 
it, and not to know that T must either re- 
fuse to give, or else take the money which 
I meant for the coal or for the milk bill. I 
used to think I gave away liberally wiien I 
did it by fits and starts, but in point of fact 
I gave less and felt it more." 

" Some peo])le say we ought to give till 
we feel it," said Fanny, " but that is just 
one of those cant phrases which do not 
mean much. Some ])crsons are so stingv 
that every cent comes with a dreadful 
wrench, but T do not believe they are more 
holy on that account. It is the 'cheerful 
giver ' that the Lord loves." 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 21 

" Yes, I approve of giving away a tenth 
when I have twenty-five Imndred dollars a 
year," said Mr. Farrington, " but 1 do not 
know how we can do it on a smaller income." 

"Let us try at least," said his wife. 
" Giving away on paper will not ruin us." 

"Very well," replied Mr. Farrington. 
" Set aside the one hundred and fifty dol- 
lars, Cousin Mary, and see what you can 
make of what is left." 

" The rent is the first item," said Mrs. 
Woodburn. 

"I wish I could have sold that wretched 
bank stock when I was married and bought 
a house. Half of it then would have paid 
for a much nicer phxce than this." 

" How did it happen that you did 
not?" inquired Mrs. Woodburn; "you went 
directly to housekeeping." 

" The only reason was," replied Mr. Far- 
rington, " that my flither requested in his 
will that I should not dispose of that stock 
unless it was an absolute necessity. He 



22 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

thought it perfectly secure, and he never 
favored investments in real estate for young 
men. He had lost heavily himself in that 
w^ay, and he always thought young people 
made a mistake to huy a house the first 
thing. Of course if I could have fore- 
seen how it w^as coming out, I should 
have sold, but it 's no use to think of that 
now." 

" We might get a cheaper house some- 
where," said Fanny, "or a flat in one of those 
new buildings on Worth Street." 

" The rent of those is almost as much as 
this," said Mr. Farrington. " They are 
new, and all the fashion. I suppose we 
ought to board." 

" I will 720^," said Fanny, bringing a small 
liand doAvn with great force on the page of 
the account-book. " I will keep house in two 
rooms, or even in one, but I will have a 
home wdiere we can do as we please." 

" That seems to be settled, George," said 
Mrs. Woodburn. " You know amiable peo- 



now THE ENDS MET, 28 

pie like Fanny are perfectly immovable 
when they reach a certain point." 

" Wiiat a good thing it is to have a repu- 
tation for obstinacy," said Fanny, laughing. 
"It saves so much argument." 

" IsTot much in this case," replied her hus- 
band. " You know I detest boarding as 
much as you do. If we are to change our 
quarters, you must begin a round of house- 
hunting at once. It will not do to wait un- 
til my ankle is well enough for me to go 
with you; cheap houses are hard to find. It 
would not do to go where the drainage was 
bad, nor into one of those dark places on 
Wallace Street. We must be within walk- 
ing distance of my business, too; there are 
a hundred things which must be consid- 
ered." 

" My advice would be," said Mrs Wood- 
burn, " to keep this house if you can pos- 
sibly do so. You have no idea what an 
expense moving is until you have tried it. 
Your carpets will not fit, and your furniture 



24 IJOW THE EXDS MET. 

will be broken and defaced, and you must 
hire men and women of all sorts to pack and 
unpack, and in the end you do not feel at 
home. You have left your neighbors, and 
all the attachments which you have to this 
place, and unless the rent is very much 
cheaper you have not gained enough to 
cover the expense." 

" But three hundred dollars seems a high 
rent to pay from so small an income," said 
Fanny. 

" Cannot you make it less ? " inquired 
Mrs. "Woodburn. " Must you have all the 
rooms ? If you could let that front room 
up stairs, you could get a good ]:>rice for it. 
It is so large, and so conveniently situated." 

" But we have only two chambers besides 
the servants' room," said Fanny, " and if we 
keep house at all we ought to have one 
sj^are room." 

" But you have two large rooms on this 
floor besides the kitchen," pursued Mrs. 
Woodburn. " It is a pity that this large 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 25 

parlor was not divided into two rooms. It 
would be more convenient for you now." 

" I Avill tell you how we can arrange it," 
said Fann}^, delighted with any phm which 
would enable them to keep their house. 
" AVe will take the dining-room for our bed- 
room; it does not open directly into the 
kitchen, you know; and Ave can move the 
sideboard in here, and the dining-table. We 
can easily put a partition across, or make 
one of those large screens like yours, and 
this room can be both parlor and dining- 
room." 

" IIoAV fortunate that the Avindows are not 
all at one end, as they are in some houses," 
said Mr. Farrington. " How much rent can 
we ask for our room up stairs ? " 

"Ephraim pa3^s fifty dollars a year for 
his u'oom at Mi*. Mudge's," replied Mrs. 
Woodburn. " If you could furnish this, and 
take the care of it, it might bring more. 
You Avill not find it pleasant to haA^e a 
stranger coming in and out at all hours." 



26 now THE ENDS MET. 

" We do not expect to find onr retrench- 
ments pleasant," replied Fanny. " That 
wonld be absnrd. Go on, Consin Mary, we 
will rent the room if we can find a tenant. 
Call onr rent two hnndred and fifty dollars." 

"The next item," said Mrs. "Woodbnrn, 
consulting the memorandum, " is the wages 
of your servants." 

" We have decided to keep but one, you 
know," said Mrs. Farrington, "but I am 
afraid Bridget would not stay to do general 
housework. She has always lived where 
there were two servants." 

" Let her go," said Mrs. Woodbnrn, "you 
can never alter your whole style of living 
while you have her. It would be unreason- 
able to expect her to conform to the new 
Avays which you will have to adopt. Dis- 
miss both your present servants, and get 
one good strong girl accustomed to do 
general housework. Begin anew as far as 
you can." 

" Perhaps we might get a cheaper girl 
than Bridget," said Fanny. 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 27 

" That is a doubtful economy," replied 
her cousin, " an inexperienced girl will 
waste more in her failures than the differ- 
ence in her wages. When the housekeeper 
is able to keep a constant oversight of the 
cooking, a cheap girl may be worth having, 
bnt yon mnst have one who can be left to 
herself without bnrning np the meat and 
allowing the bread to sonr." 

"I insist, Fanny," said Mr. Farrington, 
" that if you wdll keep bnt one servant she 
shall be a competent one. You will have 
enough on your hands, without taking a 
pupil to instruct in dish-Avashing and 
kindred arts. Give me that memorandum, 
Mary, I will begin on our new basis: rent, 
$250. We may not find a tenant wdio 
wishes for a furnished room, so we will not 
count on that, besides the room will not be 
a furnished one Avhen we have transferred 
our bedroom set to the dining-room. Wages, 
$12 per month, $144; fuel—. If we rent 
the upper room, we shall not burn as much 



28 JIOW THE ENDS MET. 

coal, and we can give up this delightful 
open fire, if it is a necessity, so I will take 
ten dollars off our last year's bill for coal 
and wood. That makes the fuel only eighty 
dollars. Gas — " 

"Kerosene costs much less," interposed 
Mrs. Woodburn. " You can light your house 
for six or eight dollars a year, if you buy 
oil by the quantity." 

" Seventeen dollars is worth saving," re- 
plied Mr. Farrington, '' especially as we 
have quite a supply of lamps among the 
things which Fanny brought from home. I 
will put down, oil, $8. If the house is 
blown up from the explosion of a lamp, I 
suppose you will be answerable for it." 

" It will not blow up if you buy good oil, 
and do not kindle your fires with it," re- 
sponded Mrs. Woodburn. " You must 
have an oil stove next summer. You have 
no idea how much fuel you will save in that 
way." 

" But we shall use more kerosene. You 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 29 

make me think of old Mrs. Cooper, Avho 
remarked approvingly, when she saw my 
mother's coal stove, ' Well, they do save 
wood.' " 

Mrs. Woodburn laughed, and said that a 
little experience would convince him that a 
dollar's worth of oil would last longer than 
the same sum la fuel. 

" We can decide about that when summer 
comes," said Fanny, " I want you to go on 
with your estimates." 

" Our clothing must be considered next," 
said Mr. Farrington. " That is, of course, 
one of our largest expenses." 

"You must both retrench a good deal 
there," said Mrs. Woodburn. " If you will 
allow me to tell you exactly wiiat I think, 
I w^ill say that 3'ou might be perfectly 
comfortable and respectable on half what 
you generally spend." 

" O Cousin Mary! " said Fanny reproach- 
fully, "I never thought I was extravagant." 

"You were not," responded Mrs. Wood- 



30 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

burn cordially, " but you will be, if you are 
not very much more economical now. You 
see your income is reduced two fifths, but 
in the estimates which w^e have already 
made w^e have not been able to make any 
proportionate reduction of your expenses. 
Your dress and your table must be simpli- 
fied very much. George likes to have you 
handsomely dressed, and you have excellent 
taste, but he must make up his mind now 
to have you w^ear six-cent calicos half the 
time." 

"But I have always heard peoj^le say," 
objected Fanny, "that it w^as very poor 
economy to buy cheap goods, and it costs 
so mnch now to have dresses made — " 

" I would not advise you to take your six- 
cent calicos to Madame Le Tour," said Mrs. 
Woodburn, "but I can tell you of a little 
sewing girl, who, with your assistance, 
will make two simple print dresses in three 
days, provided that you can give her an old 
dress which fits you well to serve as a 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 31 

pattern. If you have the waist and sleeves 
Imed they will be warm enough and Vv ill last 
you for a long time, and the expense will be 
very small. If you cannot wear a cotton 
dress in mid-winter I w^ill allow you to have 
a flannel for the coldest time, but I prefer 
the prhits, as they do not collect the dust in 
every fold, and if necessary they can be 
washed. In selecting your nicer dresses 
you must be careful to choose a durable 
material, of a color and style which will not 
look old-fashioned in one season. Of course 
dresses are not all, but in other things you 
must learn to buy what is cheapest, l^ot 
necessarily a poor quality, remember; 
cheap shoes, for example, are almost always 
extravagant. Keep watch for the shop- 
worn sales of the best dealers and buy a 
year's supply then, and so of other things. 
A little practice will enable you to save in 
many ways. One learns very soon the art 
of making things do. You have always 
taken good care of your dresses, and do 



32 IIOW THE ENDS MET. 

not need to be told that every rip should, 
be mended as soon as it is discovered, 
and every spot sponged ofF immediately. 
"When I see a lady with the ends of her 
fingers out of her gloves, I know it is 
because she has been too careless to take 
that 'stitch in time' wdiich saves many 
more than ' nine.' I have a friend who 
always carries a needle threaded with black 
silk in her purse, and at odd moments, when 
she is waiting, she looks after the little rips 
which are constantly appearing in gloves 
which have lost their first freshness." 

" You say nothing about me, Mary," said 
Mr. Farrington, who had been turning over 
the leaves of the account-book for the last 
few minutes. 

" Am I to dress in calico, too ? Perhaps 
you will allow me a linen duster for a coat. 
I believe I have an old one which might be 
brought out on this occasion." 

Mrs. Woodburn laughed, and said : " My 
Imsband used to tell me, in those old days 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 33 

when we had to count our coppers very 
carefully, that my only idea of economy for 
him was to have him buy two pairs of pan- 
taloons with each suit. I prevailed on him 
to do it occasionally, but I had to keep a 
constant oversight to insure his wearing 
them on alternate weeks to keep them in 
accord with the coat and vest. I know 
those suits lasted a long time, and he was 
never brought to the necessity of casting 
aside a wearable coat and vest, or supple- 
menting them with a pair of pantaloons 
which made them seem shabby." 

" Well, you are certainly a woman of ex- 
pedients," said Mr. Farrington. " Of 
course I shall have to wear ready-made 
clothing now, so I can have a double sup- 
ply of trousers with every suit. Have you 
no other economical dodge for me ? " 

" I do not think of any," replied Mrs. 
"Woodburn, " unless Fanny is willing to 
keep a memorandum of the exact measure- 
ments of your shirts, which you have made 



34 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

to order. If she knows the length of every 
seam and bmdmg, she will be able to select 
some which will fit you from those great 
sales of unlaundered shirts which come 
now and then." 

"But the clerks would never measure 
them accurately for me," said Fanny, in 
surprise. 

" Take a tape-measure in your pocket, 
my dear, and measure them yourself. I saw 
a lady doing it on my last shopping expe- 
dition, and I heard her tell her companion 
that she had saved a good deal on every 
shirt." 

" But with all these excellent plans, you 
have not decided how much I must put 
down on my list for our clothing," said Mv, 
Farrington. 

" It is impossible to make any estimate," 
replied Mrs. Woodburn, "until you have 
examined your last year's accounts care- 
fully. Leave out all but the real necessi- 
ties, and reduce those to their lowest terms, 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 35 

and then see what you have. It is late now, 
and I must say good-night. I only intend- 
ed to run in and ask after the lame ankle, 
but I have made quite a visit." 

" Come again to-morrow night," said Mr. 
Farrington. " We shall need your help 
again. We will not try to thank you for 
all the good advice you have already given 
us; we will wait and do it all at once." 

" Do not speak of it," said Mrs. Wood- 
burn. " Giving advice brings its own recom- 
pense, except in the case of lawyers and 
doctors; theirs has a cash valne." 

The following day was a busy one to both 
Mr. and Mrs. Farrington. He established 
himself at his desk immediately after break- 
fast, and addressed himself to the task of 
classifying their expenses for the past year, 
under different heads. 

Mrs. Farrington went into the kitchen 
and explained to her two servants that cir- 
cumstances had made it necessary for her 
to change her style of living, and that she 



36 IIOW THE ENDS MET. 

should be obliged to dismiss them and keep 
but one girl. The servants were attached 
to her, and promised to try and find a suit- 
able girl, accustomed to general housework, 
wdio would come to her, Avhile in her turn 
she would mention to her friends that they 
wished situations. Mrs. Farrington was 
conscious of a little shiver of disappoint- 
ment at the close of this interview. She 
had read of devoted maids who Avould not 
leave their mistresses in altered circum- 
stances, and although she had not I'eally 
expected it, she had asked herself, " What 
if Bridget sliould offer to stay ? " But no 
such thought had occurred to her Hibernian 
treasure. Places were plenty, and she and 
Katie began, before the door was fairly 
closed, to discuss the rival advantages of 
High Street and Columbus Avenue. 

Mrs. Farrington consoled herself by the 
recollection that Mrs. AVoodburn had ad- 
vised her to take a fresh start. She remem- 
bered dimly a saying of George Eliot's, that 



now THE ENDS MET. 37 

with new people one can begin a new life, 
and almost be a better man. " With a new 
o'irl I will be a more eeonomieal house- 
keeper," she said to herself as she returned 
to the parlor in response to a call from her 
husband, Avho was puzzled to weed out 
superfluities from necessities in her account- 
book. 

"When evening came they were both im- 
patient to relate the experiences of the day 
to Mrs. Woodbnrn. Mr. Farrington had 
advertised their front room as " to let fur- 
nished," Fanny having assured him, after a 
general survey of their belongings, that she 
Avas confident she could find the necessary 
pieces of furniture. 

She had just begun to explain the de- 
tails of her plan when Mrs. Woodburn 
came, and after a few words of greeting 
she continued, as her cousin expressed her 
anxiet}^ to hear all the particulars. 

" The room ah-eady has a carpet," said 
Fanny. " It is not new, so I can be con- 



38 riOW THE ENDS MET. 

tent to alloAv it to remain there. The 
dressing-table I shall make by draping a 
wide shelf nnder the glass. Our servant's 
room contains two good single beds and 
two bnreans, and as we are to have but one 
girl, I can spare a bed and a bureau for our 
lodger. That large i-ocking-chair in the 
spare-room has always been too large for 
the corner where it stands, so that shall be 
moved to the front room, with two of the 
dining-room chairs. These, with that small 
table in the corner of the parlor, where we 
shall put the sideboard, will make a very 
comfortable outfit. I shall leave some of 
the pictures and the hanging book-shelves 
to make the room seem more home-like, and 
I am sure we shall fmd a tenant." 

As soon as Fanny had explained her 
plans for the comfort of their prospective 
lodger, Mr. Farrington began to discuss 
pecuniary affairs with considerable enthu- 
siasm. 

" I have found many leaks," he said. 



HOW THE ENDS MET, 39 

"There is the barber, for instance. I must 
either let my beard grow, or shave myself. 
Twenty-five cents two or three times a 
week counts up very rapidly. I am thank- 
ful that I have never been more than an 
occasional smoker, for I shall have one less 
extravagant habit to break." 

"We have labored the most over our ex- 
penses for clothing. Cousin Mary," said 
Fanny. " It is so hard to tell what was 
really necessary. I have nearly brought on 
a headache by thinking • did I really need 
that handkerchief,' and ' could I have possi- 
bly dispensed with that yard of ruffling.' 
It has been easier for George because he 
has not made half as many little purchases." 

"I have made up my mind," said Mr. 
Farrington, "that we can next year bring 
our expenses for clothing down to a hun- 
dred and fifty dollars." 

" !N^ot a hundred and fifty dollars for each 
of you? " exclaimed Mrs. Woodburn in 
astonishment. 



40 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

" No, for Ijoth, of course/' replied Mr. 
Farrington. " I did not spend a hundred 
and fifty dollars last year for myself. 
Fanny thinks we can both dress on a hun- 
dred dollars a year, but I am not so 
sanguine." 

" ]^ot every year, my deai*," his wife in- 
terruj^ted, " only on those happy years 
when the overcoat and cloak are still pre- 
sentable. I will agree to spend but fifty for 
myself and twenty-five for ISTeddy." 

" You allow him too much in pi'opoi-tion," 
said Mr. Farrington. " To dress a baby 
like that ought not to cost half as much as 
you spend for yourself." 

^^ You do not know the price of children's 
shoes and stockings, George," said Mrs. 
Woodburn. "Fanny will do very well if 
she makes tAventy-five dollars suffice for 
Ned." 

" I have a good many nice dresses," said 
Fanny, " and I intend to ' last them ' as the 
children say. ISTow let us talk about pro- 
viding for the table." 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 41 

"Meat lias probably been your heaviest 
bill," said Mrs. Wooclburn. " How often 
do you have it? " 

"Always twice a day, and often three 
times," replied Fanny. " ^Neither of us 
really care much for it in the morning, how- 
ever, and sometimes it is hardly tasted in 
the dining-room. George usually break- 
fasts on oatmeal and coffee." 

" Are you Avilling," inquired Mrs. Wood- 
burn, " really to make up your minds that 
on a salary of fifteen hundred dollars you 
can afford meat regularly but once a day? 
I presume George will say that it is better 
to save in cake and sweet dishes. Men are 
apt to regard those as the expensive part of 
a meal, but in point of fact you can save 
but little there." 

" But meat is the most luitritious as well 
as the most expensive food," said Mr. Far- 
rino;ton. " I know it is often remarked that 
Americans eat too much meat and too little 
bread, but I have been accustomed to think 



42 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

that our climate required us to use a great 
deal of auimal food. We must keep the 
fire within, burning, you know." 

'^'Only experience cau decide each iudi- 
vidual case/' replied Mrs. TToodburn. "My 
opinion is, that a mau who has as little 
violent exercise as you do, would be quite 
as well off with meat but ouce a day. Try 
it aud see. You cau easily go back to your 
old ways if you find it necessary. If you 
have meat but once a day, and follow the 
frugal example of the French in having 
Svoups, you will find that you have made an 
important retrenchment. One fifth of all 
that you have spent for food has probably 
gone for meat, so you see you cannot save 
as much in any other thing." 

" I had no idea meat was so expensive," 
said Mr. Farrington. 

" I have often been astonished at our 
butcher's bills," said Fanny, " but I never 
thought of estimating the proportion, i^ow 
Cousin Mary, tell us what you think it 
ought to cost to supply our table?" 



now THE ENDS MET. 43 

" If you are prudent, and understand the 
art of utilizing remnants, I should think 
thirty dollars a month would be sufficient," 
replied Mrs. Woodburn. " Some persons 
estimate that what one individual actually 
eats in an ordinary family costs but a dollar 
and a half a week, but that is too little I 
am sure. You should allow at least two 
dollars a week for each adult, and one dol- 
lai- for your child. That will be just a dol- 
lar a day, three hundred and sixty-five 
dollars a year." 

" A dollar a day is very little," said 
Fanny, " think how much one dinner 
costs." 

" I know it is very little," said Mrs. 
Woodburn, " but we have been speaking of 
families where economy is necessary. Of 
course, at your father's table, the estimates 
would be very different. A little more 
work over your account-book Avill give 
you the proportion which you spend for 
different articles. It will probably not vary 



44 HOW THE EXDS MET. 

much from this: One tenth will go for but- 
ter (more than that, if you are given to 
pies) , one tenth for beef, one tenth for other 
kinds of meat. If you have meat but once 
a day, the allowance for that will buy your 
eggs also, and probably leave a surplus, ex- 
cept when eggs are very dear. One tenth 
is a liberal estimate for Hour of all kinds, 
including: oatmeal. In vour familv, milk 
will take another tenth. The remaining 
one hundi'ed and eighty-two dollars will be 
divided among a great variety of articles, 
the most expensive of which are sugar and 
fruit. Of course these estimates vary in 
difierent families, but I think you will find 
it as accurate a division as can be made 
beforehand.'' 

"How did you ever learn so much?" 
inquired Fanny admiringly, " your wisdom 
is actually appalUng.'' 

" It is not very difficult if one*s attention 
has ever been directed to such matters," 
replied Mrs. Woodburn, writing down on a 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 45 

bit of paper the sum she had allowed to 
each article. 

" You always had a geuius for estimates 
and averages, Mary/' said Mr. Farrington^ 
" but I neyer realized what a useful accom- 
plishment it was before. You ought to 
publish an arithmetic : ' If one man will eat 
six cents worth of oatmeal in one day, how 
long will fiye dollars worth last fifteen men?' 
You would riyal our old enemy, Mr. Col- 
burn." 

" I will wait until I can have the benefit 
of your experience before I begin," she 
replied. 

"Whoever keeps the finnily accounts 
must keep a close watch, and if you find 
that your expenses have oyerrun your 
allowance one Aveek, you must have plainer 
food for the next few da3^s to make it even. 
If you pay down for eyerything, it will be 
easy to see at a glance just where yon 
stand." 

"I do uot see how it is possible," said 



46 tlOW THE ENDS MET. 

Fanny, who had been thinking intently for 
some minutes, " to feed people for two dol- 
lars each a week. If that covei's the expense, 
why are not all the keepers of boarding- 
houses rolling in wealth ? Their profits must 
be enormous." 

" That estimate," replied Mrs Woodburn, 
" is simply for the food Avhich is actually 
eaten. The wages of servants, the fuel for 
cooking, the wear and tear of household 
goods, must all be added in a boarding- 
house. Moreover, I have taken it for 
granted that everything will be perfectly 
cooked. In the poorer boarding-houses the 
waste is enormous. Much of the food is 
not properly prepared, and people taste a 
little of this and a little of that, in the hope 
of finding something palatable, and in the 
end a great deal is thrown away." 

" In a small famil}^, like yours, everything 
may be used, Avhereas, at a large table there 
must be a generous supply of each dish. 
A particular taste cannot be consulted as 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 47 

it is when you save the lone custard which 
is left at dinner, and give it to George for 
supper/' 

" Yes, I see," said Fanny, " you have shat- 
tered, with a word, my imaginary boarding- 
house, where I was intending to make an 
immense fortune in no time." 

"Let ns return to our estimates," said 
Mr. Farrington. " There are a multitude of 
other expenses, for which we have as yet 
made no allowance." 

" Certainly," said Mrs. Woodburn, " but 
you will find it difficult to decide about 
many of them. There are refurnishings 
which are necessary from time to time, as 
different articles are broken or worn out, 
and medicines, and doctor's bills, and travel- 
ling—" 

" As to travelling," said Mr. Farrington, 
" as I have only two week's vacation in a 
year, we ai^e not likely to make frequent or 
extended journeys. It is the first time I 
ever saw any advantage in being so clo»sely 
tied." 



48 1^0 W THE ENDS MET, 

" Go away when you do have a vacation,'^ 
said Mrs. AVoodburn, "you Avill both need 
the change. You cannot choose IN^ewj^ort 
or Long Branch, but there are many mex- 
pensive places Avhere you can enjoy a great 
deah" 

" TVe seldom go away from home except 
to visit friends," said Fanny, " so that we do 
not consider visitini>- re£:>'ula]' suuimer resorts 
as a part of our yearly programme." 

" There are other expenses," said Mrs. 
AVoodburn, " which will be varied very 
much by individual habits. Postage, for ex- 
ample, and stationery. Mrs. Gaskell, in her 
inimitable ' Crawford,' says that every per- 
son has some pet economy. I think mine is 
paper, for it really distui'bs me to see people 
buy expensive note-paper by the quire, when 
they might just as well use a cheaper quality, 
and purchase it by the ream. Most letters 
are thrust into the Avaste basket as soon as 
they are i-ead, and who cares to have his fire 
kindled with creaui-laid Irish linen, stamped 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 49 

with a monogram, when ordmaiy commer- 
cial note burns as well? It is only by care in 
trifles that one can be really economical." 

""What other heavy expenses have 3^on 
found on our account-book, George?" 
Fanny inquired. " Have we considered 
them all?" 

" 'No, there is the water-tax," he replied, 
" that is ten dollars a year." 

" I wish we had a well," said Fanny. 

" I rejoice that we have n't," returned her 
husband, "we might be foolish enough to 
use it, and typhoid fever is more expensive 
than the water-tax." 

" The house-cleaning, spring and fall, costs 
something," said Fanny, " and the care of 
our little garden." 

" I can look after the garden myself," said 
Mr. Farrington. "It will not be quite as 
pleasant exercise as lawn-tennis, but it will 
be more ])rofitable." 

" IIow much did your house-cleaning cost 
last spring?" inquired Mrs. Woodburn. 



50 HOW THE ENDS MET. 

" Only four dollars," replied Fanny, who 
had found the items in the account-book, 
" but I had two girls to help about it." 

" You must alloAV ten dollars a year for 
that, then," said Mrs. Woodburn, noting it 
down on her list. " There are your news- 
papers and books. With such a good library 
in town, I suppose even such great readers 
as you do not spend much for that." 

" Fifteen dollars ought to be enough," 
said Mr. Farrington. " That will allow us 
one daily and one weekly newspaper and a 
monthly magazine." 

" Make it tw^enty," said Mrs. Woodburn, 
"that makes our estimate just one thousand 
and thirty-seven dollars. Call it one thou- 
sand and fifty, and you will have just three 
hundred dollars margin beside your pre- 
cious tenth, which Fanny has already con- 
secrated." 

" There is one thing," said Fanny, " that 
we have said nothing about. I do not like 
to think that it costs anything, but I sup- 
pose it does, and that is, company." 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 51 

" The expense of that depends very much 
upon whether you have enough moral cour- 
age to entertain your friends in a style 
which is suited to your income, or whether 
you will think it necessary to make a gi-eat 
change m all your domestic affairs every 
time you have a guest," said Mrs. Wood- 
hurn. " Of course in any case it must 
cost something to have another person in 
your family. That is one of the expenses 
which must come out of the three hundred 
dollars." 

" I am convinced," said Mr. Farrington, 
" that women often make a mistake in that 
matter. They do not really do as they 
would have others do to them. I shall 
never forget my experience in going home 
to dine w^ith one of my classmates, two 
or three 3^ears after we graduated. It 
was just dinner-time when we reached 
the house. Jim went at once to tell his 
wife that I had come. The door was open 
a little into the dinir^'-room, and I could 



52 now THE ENDS ME 2. 

see that the tal)le was all ready, but such a 
commotion as ensued after the annonnee- 
ment of my ai-rival ! Everything was pulled 
to pieces and I could hear Jinrs wife o])en- 
ing drawers, and going to closets to get ont 
all the best things. I felt like an intruder. 
Jim did his best to entertain me while we 
waited, but I could see how much he was 
annoyed by the delay and confusion. After 
about an hour his Avife appeared in a very 
elegant dress, and invited ns ont to a fine 
dinner, which I w\as sure had received some 
additions from the confectioner's after my 
arrival. I had to leave before it was over, 
to catch my train, and you may be sure I 
never went there again. I made up my 
mind that, if I had a wife like that, I wonld 
not keep house a day. My idea of hos- 
pitality is to be always free to say ^stop 
to dinner' to any friend who happens 
along, without making him feel that the 
whole house is turned upside down by his 
coming." 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 53 

" That is very well for chance visitors," 
said Fanny, " but when we invite our friends 
particularly, we wish to entertain them more 
formally. If we accept invitations to hand- 
some parties, we must, when we return 
them, do as others have done." 

"Yon are making a mistake there, my 
dear Fanny," said Mrs. AYoodburn, " if you 
mean that you ought to have as grand a din- 
ner. Your friends, the Burnhams, for in- 
stance, are very fond of 3^ou and George, and 
invite you there frequently. When you go 
there, you are received in an elegant draw- 
ing room hung with rare paintings, and 
everything is in accord with that. Xow it 
would be foolish for you to feel that you 
could not invite them here until your house 
was refurnished in the same style as theirs, 
and it is really just as foolish for you to try 
and prepare a supper for them Avhich is like 
the one which they ordered from a caterer 
when they invited you. 

*• You must be content to entertain them 



54 JJ^^W THE ENDS MET. 

in a way which is suited to your income and 
style of living. That is exactly what they 
do for yon." 

" The best way would be not to accept 
invitations to snch places," said George. 

" I do not agree with yon," replied Mrs. 
Woodburn. " That would deprive yon and 
yonr friends of mnch pleasnre. I hope you 
will pardon my frankness when I say that 
yon mistake the motive which makes you 
feel in that way. You think it is a proper 
self-respect, but it is really becanse jou are 
ashamed of being poorer than yonr neigh- 
bors. I think that degrades friendly inter- 
conrse into a sort of bargain." 

" But you do not mean," said Fanny, 
" that we are to make no effort to have 
onr table more attractive, and onr house 
as pleasant as possible when we have com- 
pany ? " 

" Certainly not," I'cplied Mrs. Woodbnrn, 
"but there is a great deal of truth in that 
saying of Emerson's, that we ought not to 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 55 

let the ' emphasis of liospitality ' lie in these 
things." 

"Perhaps you are right, Mary, " said Mr, 
Farrington. " I snppose the real object of 
social visiting is not to see how many nice 
things one can find to eat. I am snre the 
pleasantest parties are not always those 
where the snpper is most elegant." 

" We will try and set the fashion of ' plain 
living and high thinking ' this winter," said 
Fanny. 

" Have we really finished all our esti- 
mates? " 

" I believe w^e have," replied Mr. Fai-ring- 
ton. " Living on our income looks very 
easy on paper, but perhaps we may find it 
more difficult practically." 

" Difficult, but not impossible," said Mrs. 
Woodburn. 

" The advantage of having it all arranged 
beforehand," said Fanny, " will be that if 
we find we are spending too much money, 
we shall be able to see just where the leak 



56 ITOW THE ENDS MET. 

is. But we shall have to watch ourselves 
and each other very carefully." 

" Beware of triflhig expenses," said Mrs. 
Woodburn. " You will not spend five or 
ten dollars carelessly, I am sure, but the 
quarters and dimes may slip through your 
fingers before you know it." 

" I am afraid it will have a belittlin<^ 
effect on my mind," said Mr. Farrington, " to 
be always considering about every cent." 

" It is certainly pleasanter to be rich than 
poor," replied Mrs. Woodburn; " l)ut noth- 
ing on earth is really so belittling as living 
beyond one's income, and no economy in 
trifles is so wearing as the constant sense 
of running behindhand." 

" If we can keep our home, and live on 
George's salary, I shall be both proud and 
happy," said Fanny. " I cannot tell how 
much I thank you for helping us in our 
plans. George would never have been con- 
vinced by my arguments." 

"Let us not boast quite yet," said her 



now THE ENDS MET. 57 

husband. "I have my doubts about a 
hidy's spending only fifty dollars a year for 
dress, who, when at home, had three or four 
hundred dollars, and never found it too 
much." 

" But I 7iad it then," replied Fanny, " and 
now I have n't it, and that makes a great 
difference. If the person for whose admira- 
tion I care most will be content to see me 
in dresses which are not made by Madam Le 
Tour, I am sure I shall be satisfied." 

" The one who admires you most," replied 
lier husband, " admires you so much that he 
hates to feel that he cannot gratify your 
every wish." 

"Do you remember what Bella said to 
Eokesmith in ' Our Mutual Friend ? ' " in- 
quired Fanny. " It is one of the prettiest 
passages Dickens ever wrote;" and going 
to the bookcase she opened the volume and 
read aloud : — 

" Why don't I say being poor ? Bccuuse I am not 
poor. Dear Jolm, it 's not possible that you suppose I 
think we are poor?" 



58 !!0W THE ENDS MET. 

" I do, my love." 

"Oh, John!" 

"Understand me, sweetheart. I know I am rich 
beyond all wealth in having you ; but I think of you 
and think for you. In such a dress as you are wear- 
ing now you first charmed me, and in no dress could 
you ever look, to my thinking, more graceful or more 
beautiful. But you have admired many finer dresses 
this very day, and is it not natural that I wish I could 
give them to you ? " 

" It 's very nice that you should wish it, John. It 
brings these tears of grateful pleasure into my eyes to 
hear you say so with such tenderness. But I don't 
want them." 

" Again," he pursued, " we are now walking through 
the muddy streets. I love those pretty feet so dearly, 
that I feel as if I could not bear the dirt to soil the 
sole of your shoe. Is it not natural that I should wish 
you could ride in a carriage ? " 

" It 's very nice," said Bella, glancing downward at 
the feet in question, " to know that you admire them 
so much, John, dear, and since you do, I am sorry that 
these shoes are a full size too large. But I don't want 
a carriage ; believe me." 

"You would like one if you could have one, Bella?" 

" I should n't like it for its own sake half as well as 
such a wish for it. Dear John, your wishes are as 
real to me as the wishes in the fairy story that were 
all fulfilled as soon as sj^oken. Wish me everything 
that you can wish for the woman you dearly love, 
and I have as good as got it, John ; I have better tJian 
got it." 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 59 

The months that followed that memoral)le 
October reduced the theories whicli had 
been advanced, to the hard test of daily 
practice. Mr. and Mrs. Farrington had 
both been accustomed to spend money free- 
1}^, and it was not easy to be careful in using 
sQiall sums. There were many days when 
they had what Fanny called " retrenchment 
dinners," to bring down the average which 
some unnoticed extravagance had increased 
ahirmingly. There was much turning and 
sponging of old clothes. Some of their ac- 
quaintances wondered why Mrs. Farrington, 
who used to be so stylish, had so few new 
dresses, and how she could let that child of 
hers wear such plain things. But there 
vras great peace of mind in that home, and 
a feeling of triumph over difficulties which 
was very pleasant. 

"We never had a happer year," said 
Fanny, as they were talking over their 
affairs with Mrs. Woodbui'u. " Instead of 



60 II OW THE EXDS MET. 

comparing our present income with our 
former one, we tried to i-emember that many 
home missionaries with lai-gc famihes had 
much less." 

"When we heard of people who were 
living on seven hundred dollars a yeai*, we 
felt like millionaires," said Mr. Farrington. 
" It is just as you said, Mary; it all depends 
on the point of view." 

"jSText year it w^ill be easier for us to 
keep within our income, for we have learned 
how," said Fanny. " When I look back at 
the extravagances which we alloAved our- 
selves when we had twenty-five hundred 
dollars, I do not wonder that we had to 
pull so hard to make the ends meet." 

"Where did you find you had wasted 
most? " inquired Mrs. Woodburn. 

"Oh, I do not know," replied Fanny, "it 
was everywhere. In providing for the 
table I bonght the best meat I could find, 
without considering at all what pieces would 
be really most profitable, and it makes me 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 61 

bliisli to remember how much I allowed 
Bridget to throw away. We have had 
many a nice dinner this winter on what 
would, have been cast aside without a 
thought a year ago. And it was not only 
in meat, but in vegetables. I used to buy 
the very earliest that came, even if they 
were expensive, and we were almost always 
tired of them before the season was over. 
I did try to be economical before, but I did 
not know how. I was always saving in 
the wrong place." 

" I think that must be true," interposed 
her husband, " for I am sure our table has 
never been better than it has been this year. 
But Fanny has had dreadful struggles over 
the account-book on Saturday nights." 

" You see," said Fanny," if I found we 
had gone over our allowance of seven 
dollars a week, I wanted to know where 
the trouble Avas. If we could have bought 
just a week's supplies at once, it woukl 
have been easiei*, but it is cheaper to buy 



62 ^10 W THE ENDS MET. 

many things by the quantity, and I had to 
take that into consideration. The first time 
we bought a barrel of flour I thought we 
were ruined, because we had spent seven- 
teen dollars in a week. After a while I 
learned to estimate the quantity Ave had 
probably used, instead of what we had 
bought. Your division into tenths helped 
me, but the months varied very much. In 
the time of berries our sugar bills were 
enormous, but, take the year through, your 
estimates Avere about right." 

"Fanny has reduced economy to a fine 
point, I assure you," said Mr. Farrington. 

" George can tell you," Fanny Avent on, 
Avithout noticing the interruption, " that I 
had to giA^e him very plain food sometimes. 
Fortunately he is not an epicure. He 
was very good-natured even Avhen I had 
only fish choAvder and apples. One of my 
twenty-five cent dinners, you knoAV." 

" They Avere capital choAvders, I assure 
you, Mary," said Mr. Farrington. " It Avas 



HOW THE ENDS MET. 63 

110 great hardship; her cheap clmners were 
triumphs of ingenuity." 

" Was your estimate for dress sufficient ?" 
inquired Mrs. Woodburn. 

" It had to be," said Mr. Farrington ; " but 
it was not easy, because it happened that 
we both had rather extravagant habits in 
that direction." 

" Yes," said Fanny, " I used to buy things 
which I knew would not hist, just because 
they struck my fancy. I wasted money on 
crepe lisse frills, Avhich were nothing bat a 
string in a little while, and embroidery for 
]^ed's clothes, and expensive materials for 
fancy work, and oh, a hundred things which 
did not amount to anything ! " 

" We have both learned a great deal this 
year," said Mr. Farrington. " Cousin Mary, 
if you had begun your good advice last fall 
by telling us that we could live on thirteen 
hundred and fifty dollars a year, and keep 
up the payments on my life-insurance, I 
should have laughed in your face; but we 



64 I^OW THE EiXnS MET. 

have actually done it, and we have n't been 
miserable at all. We have found out the 
truth of your aphorism that ' the only way 
to economize is to go without things ; ' but 
it has not made us unhappy." 

"Economy is just as interesting a study 
as German, if one only thinks so," said Mrs. 
"Woodburn. 

" But it has its disadvantages," said Mr. 
Farrington. " I am afraid we have grown 
conceited, we look Avith such perfect scorn 
upon the poor wretches who are ^ struggling' 
to live on two or three thousand dollars a 
year, and coming out in debt at the end." 

" It is because they have no Cousin 
Mary," said Fanny, stooping down to kiss 
Mrs. Woodburn. " If it had not been for her, 
we should have been just as unsuccessful." 



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o^y 



